


Passion-Based Learning

by Anthracene



Series: Hypnosis Works [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Sex, Brainwashing, Cock Rings, Conditioning, Creampie, Dehumanization, Dom/sub, Hypnosis, Hypnotism, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mind Control, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Step-parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthracene/pseuds/Anthracene
Summary: In a quest to find good tutors for his organic chemistry class, Isaac instead discovers something even better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing hypnosis before, so here's another go at one. Enjoy. :)

He had first spotted it on his Chemistry Department's bulletin a week ago—set apart from the rest as being the one with the least art, the least color, and the most unassuming font to ever grace an ad. Isaac was just heading back to his dorm from having gotten his third D- in the class when he saw the stark flash of white from the corner of his eye.

A nondescript little flyer, advertising for some home-based, one-on-one tutoring off-campus.

He'd never admit it to his parents, but Isaac thinks he prefers it like that: learning with a _ real _ person on the other end. His first and only experience with it was on campus, with the student mentors he had the pleasure of working with last semester, but it was enough to open his eyes to it and never look back. His positive experiences that semester—being heard, listened to, _ treated as an average person _ and not another bottom line to satisfy—had made Isaac wonder for the first time whether there was more to learning than what he’s been led to believe all his life: whether classes, academics did not have to be the chores that they were—but something that could be appreciated with others, for their own sake.

He shudders to think what they would say to him now, if only they knew what he was up to. Mingling with everyday folk, and even _ learning a thing or two from them._ But that was what college was all about, wasn’t it? Learning and trying all sorts of things a parent would never approve of, all on your own. 

That’s what Isaac is doing now at least, in the passenger’s seat of a cab. It was just unfortunate that the student mentors he so loved were unavailable this time around. Still, all that meant was that he had to expand his search a little more. The two tutors from the flyer had offered help for an impressive breadth of STEM subjects: ranging from Calculus and Physics, General and Organic Chemistry, even to four different branches of biology. He had called the number provided and scheduled for a session for 3:00PM today, for help on Organic Chemistry, and is now on his way to meet them for the very first time. It’s not as if he’s sneaking around doing something awful, and yet Isaac feels a bit of a thrill in this—for being in control of at least one aspect of his life, for the first time. 

As he skims the address plaques from the window of the cab, Isaac can't help but wonder about all sorts of things of his new tutors. _ How old are they? What relationship do the two have with each other? What inspired them both to take on this job? _He wonders the reason for their preference to work from a house in the suburbs, as opposed to the luxury of a more established organization. The voice he had heard on the other end of the call last week was Wilfred’s: Caucasian, friendly, probably well in his late forties or fifties. Isaac wonders if it's him who will be tutoring him or the other tutor, Alexander. 

Either way, he’s excited to meet them both.

“.. Oh, right here please. Thank you.” 

He tips the driver and steps out of the vehicle with his belongings. Walking up to the welcome mat laid neatly under the white wooden door, he rings the doorbell and waits. 

The neighborhood here is nice. It’s a quiet little cul-de-sac: a modest row of brownstone houses all lined up one after another, like a looping trail of dominoes. Instead of sprawling green lawns, many of the houses here have small gardens dotting along their front porches—a few morning glories here, rhododendron bushes there, even a plant growing little red chili peppers from across the street. This house in particular had pink, rose-like flowers he’s never seen before, adorning the entrance of the house in hanging baskets affixed to the ceiling. 

Isaac hears footsteps approaching from the inside before the door finally opens. To his surprise, out steps a young man: dark hair and dimples, and barely any older than Isaac himself. The young man extended a hand to greet him, smiling.

“Welcome! You must be Isaac?”

He nods, shaking the outstretched hand.

“You can call me Alex,” the young man says. “I’m the other tutor here, along with Wilfred. It’s great to finally meet you, Isaac; please, come on in!”

Alex walks with him through the foyer, down the hall, and into the living room of the house—where all their tutoring sessions will be held. All the while, he’s all smiles as he goes over with Isaac the specifics of their arrangement. 

“Tutoring usually lasts an hour, though we can always extend it if need be. It’s just us two for now, so we’re pretty flexible with our scheduling. You mentioned you preferred once a week on Thursdays to prep for your Friday exams, correct?”

”Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, grimacing slightly as he recounts the three awful ones he’s already been handed back so far. He has got to turn _ that _ around, and he’s sure he could with the help of this tutoring. 

“Alright! Just let us know if that day no longer works for you for any reason, or if you want to add any more sessions in the future. Wilfred and I are happy to be of help, in any way we can.”

When they finally reach the living room at the end of the hall, the young man walks him to the brown leather couch right in the middle.

“Wilfred is in the kitchen right now, making snacks for the session. I’ll let him know you’re here so that we can get started right away. In the meantime, though,” he waves his hand, motioning for Isaac to sit before he heads to the kitchen, “Please, make yourself right at home here.”

Isaac sets his bag down next to his feet as he sits. He’s thrilled to have the privilege of studying with such wonderful people, and in such an inviting environment. The house is unique, welcoming, and charmingly eclectic in its furnishings; he feels he could identify at least five distinct styles and periods from the various things in the living room alone—all married together nicely to provide the overall personal, comforting atmosphere of the house. On the coffee table in front of him was a glass vase, filled with the same, swirling pink flowers he had seen from the hanging baskets outside. 

But what catches his attention the most in the living room was not the flowers, or any of the other furnishings, but what sits across from it: all on its own, separated from anything else in the room. 

There, positioned against the wall opposite him, stood a magnificent, cherry-red grandfather clock. Isaac's gaze is drawn to the structure: the swing of its shiny brass pendulum from behind the glass, to and fro and _ to and fro_, with each movement accompanied by the monotonous, dull ticking of each second marching by. Isaac finds himself oddly relaxing to it as he stares on—sinking back into the soft cushions of the couch, letting each of the muscles in his body slowly unwind and let go of the tension he didn’t know he was even carrying, with each heavy swing. His thoughts scatter away from him the more he watches the bob of the pendulum until there remains nothing else to pry him away from the hypnotic pull of the clock, lulling him deeper and deeper in unawares. 

It was only when Wilfred himself appeared in front of him, setting down a tray of warm cookies on the table and blocking the clock from his direct line of sight, that Isaac was finally able to snap out of his strange reverie. 

“Oh—! I… I’m so sorry,” he apologized, frowning. Isaac straightens up immediately, sitting up on the edge of the couch. “You haven’t been waiting long for me there, have you? I have no idea what’s gotten into me…” 

“Oh, no; not at all,” The older tutor smiles, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. “It's no problem, really. I'm just happy you're able to find it so relaxing here."

After setting the tray down, the man extends a large hand out to shake his.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Isaac. Alex had probably told you already, but my name is Wilfred. Both of us look forward to working with you as your tutors from here on out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my new Tumblr: https://mothballs-and-benzene.tumblr.com/
> 
> I won't be on there much, but I'll be there.


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac stares at the tray of cookies on the table. 

He figures these must be the snacks Alex was referring to earlier, but he’s still taken aback to see them here just the same. In all of his time with the posh, high-end programs of his parents’ choosing, no one has ever done anything more for him than what was strictly required. He can't seem to recall a time when any of his tutors had shown the slightest modicum of interest in him as a person—let alone a gesture as thoughtful as this.

  
The cookies had smelled great even before, filling the rest of the house with the rich aroma of butter and vanilla from all the way back in the kitchen.But now—sitting right here in front of him—they smelled nothing short of _ divine. _The sweet, delectable scent wafted from the freshly baked goods into his nose, making Isaac salivate at the sight of them. 

It's enough even to momentarily distract from the strangeness of what had just happened.

“Please, help yourself to some,” the tutor insists, gesturing to the tray as he sits himself down. “I’ve made them for you to have as you study.”

Isaac thanks him as he takes him up on his offer. Remarkably, the cookies are one of the best Isaac’s ever tasted: warm, fluffy_, _and just as sweet as they smelled_—_with the right amount of butter in them to make them melt perfectly with every bite. If he wasn't already hungry before, he certainly is now after just one taste. Isaac proceeds to munch on two more, finishing each one just as quickly as he takes them.

“While you’re at it, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, too? I prefer to get to know my students first before we start working together, if that’s alright."

Isaac is only happy to oblige over the scrumptious treats. He tells Wilfred all about himself: that he’s a first year undergraduate, 18 years old, and a double-major in both biology and chemistry, under the premedical program at the Institute of Health and Medicinal Sciences. “I’m currently taking organic chemistry after having finished accelerated general chemistry last semester,” he shares, in between bites of his third cookie. “That's why I'm here: to receive help for that class. I’ve come here after seeing one of your adverts posted on the Chemistry department’s bulletin.” 

"Double major and premedical program, all on top of attending one of the best schools in the country?” Wilfred whistles appreciatively. “You must often have your hands full."

Isaac nods. "Just today I hadn't even had the time for lunch. I came as soon as I could_—_I headed here immediately after finishing up with my lab and coursework for the day."

"In all of my years of working as a tutor it never ceases to amaze me, how diligently students work these days. I can't fathom how so many of you kids do it: juggling that many classes, labs, homework." Wilfred smiles at him, cloying and sweet. "And finding the time for outside help still, on top of all that? It’s all so _impressive_."

Isaac feels his face flush at that. It's not even a particularly big compliment, but Isaac is _terrible_ at receiving praise_—_always had been, after years of rarely receiving them as a child. It takes nearly everything in him to shyly accept this one from the older tutor.

"How many semesters of organic chemistry are you required to take for your premedical track? We can definitely alter the structure of our sessions so that we slowly ease you in to learning the more advanced topics while still covering for this one, if you'd prefer." 

"Ah, that won't be necessary_—_I only need one semester," Isaac replies, adding, "though, I have to warn you: I am really behind as it is. I don't know if I will ever catch up in the class, or even what we will be able to cover in the span of time that we have together. At this point though, I'm sure any little bit helps." 

“Do you have any other help available to you for this challenging class? Office hours with your instructor, maybe—or perhaps any student mentors or tutors in the school?” 

He shakes his head. He shares with the tutor just how dismal the student mentor shortage had become in recent times, the unapproachable professor of the class, and how little options both had left him with.

“Well there's no need to worry anymore, at least,” Wilfred says, reassuringly, “It's what we tutors are here for, isn't it? We'll do our best to get you up to where you need to be. With some hard work you'll be in a better place by the end of it, I'm sure.”

"For now..." The tutor pulls out a whiteboard and a handful of colorful dry erase from underneath the table, “...Why don't we just get started and see where we go from here?"

Isaac nods, eager to get to work.

* * *

“You’ve mentioned your interest in going over the basics, so let’s start with a review of molecular bonds and orbitals.” Deftly uncapping the red marker with one hand, the tutor starts drawing on the whiteboard a chemical structure as he continues to speak. “This should be familiar to you from general chemistry, but I’d like to emphasize a few things from this section because a few of these concepts will be important in building the groundwork for future topics.” 

Isaac does his best to follow along. Just as Wilfred had stated, most of these are concepts he'd already learned from the previous semester. Still, Isaac is grateful for it nonetheless; it’s good to have a refresher, after quite a while since having last seen the material. He can also appreciate the way Wilfred is approaching the material, too—enunciating clearly, concisely, always maintaining a balanced pace between not too quick and not too slow. He doesn‘t want the entire session today to only consist of review of course, but he does not want to risk glossing over anything either.

Something noticeably changes as the tutor segues into the new material, however.

Isaac could feel goosebumps prickle his skin as, all of a sudden, Wilfred’s voice seemingly takes on a strange quality to it. Softer. _Calming_. Pleasant to the ears, in a way he can only describe as almost inhuman. Isaac finds himself drawn to this new soothing voice, as the tutor continues his lecture on arrow pushing. He feels himself unconsciously relaxing to it—the tension practically melting away from his muscles as he listens attentively, until his frame had sunk back against the cushions entirely. Isaac appreciates the way the tutor adjusts his pace, too: gradually slowing down, until both his honeyed words and the arrows he drew on the board start to fall in rhythm with one another, and eventually with the steady ticking of the cherry-red grandfather clock.

To and fro. To and fro.

_To and fro._

“I want you to _focus_ on the flow of electrons about the molecule, depicted here by these arrows we push. Bond-to-bond... _To and fro_... Students often feel as if the concept of arrow-pushing is difficult_—_but there's really nothing to it, see? As long as you _focus, _you'll do just fine..._”_

Isaac nods, slowly. Nothing yet of organic chemistry seems challenging or anything out-of-the ordinary. In fact, it felt rather nice, even—to be going over such simple material like this with someone so nice to him. Why was it that he needed help with this, again? What did he even struggle with before? Isaac can’t seem to remember anymore, transfixed as he was to the pull of Wilfred's voice and the structures on the board.

“It becomes so much _easier_ when you _focus only on the important things_, doesn't it? Just these arrows; nothing else. There's no need to think of anything else right now_—_thinking is too difficult; thinking will only... complicate things." Wilfred smiles, dark and predatory. "We want things to remain _easy _in this course, don't we?"

"Let everything go, Isaac, and _focus_. _Focus_ on these arrows; _focus_ on the clock_. F__ocus on the sound of my voice._..” 

Isaac moans. He's helpless as he feels the rest of his thoughts scattering away one by one, slowly being siphoned offuntil his brain is little more than mush, whipped senseless by the constant, repetitive stream of stimuli. His body sags further down on the couch, sinking with the newfound weightlessness. The dazed expression left across his face is as empty as his head_—_a blank slate, perfect for Wilfred to write over as he pleases.

"Yes, _just like that_. It must feel _so good, to relax and let go of everything."_ Slowly, the tutor gets up from across the table and makes his way towards him. He sits on the couch next to him, whiteboard still in hand, as he continues drawing the arrows that hold Isaac captive. Over and over again. 

_To and fro. **To and fro.**_

"Do you want to feel _even more relaxed,_ Isaac?” he whispers, hot against his ear._ "Would you like me to make you feel so much better?"_

Without taking his eyes off the board, Isaac silently nods. 

"_Good,_" Wilfred drawls, fingers gently stroking the hollow of his cheeks. "In a moment, Isaac, I'm going to count aloud all the arrows here. With each one you hear me count, you'll be made to feel so much _better: _warm, and _sleepy_, and _all the more relaxed for me."_

"You'll feel like you want sleep _more than anything in the world—_but you won't be able to until I finish, no. I'll let you have a little _'study break'_, but only once we're done. Then, and only then, will I allow you to fall into a _nice, deep sleep_._"_

Without further ado, Wilfred starts to count. Steadily, to the rhythm of the grandfather clock, he counts aloud the curved arrows as he draws them_—_plunging Isaac closer and closer to the brink of sleep, edging him without any reprieve. He had merely gotten to the fourth one, when Isaac interrupts him with his whining. 

"Please," the boy breathes out, barely coherent in his delirious, semi-conscious state. "Please, _please let me..._" 

Wilfred smiles. He hushes him and continues on counting, without skipping a beat. 

_Six..._

_Seven..._

By the time the last number had left the tutor's lips, Isaac's entire body had fallen limp across his lap_—_out cold; blissfully asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think in the comments. I wanted to try something a little new with the hypnosis this time around; let me know what worked and what didn't. Because finals are fast approaching, I won't be back to post until much, much later; until then, feedback is always appreciated, especially during these stressful times. :')
> 
> Feel free to let me know on my tumblr, too:  
https://mothballs-and-benzene.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

Wilfred runs his fingers through the soft, brown locks of his sleeping victim. There was just something charming to him about how  _ childlike _ the boy is. For a supposed eighteen-year-old in college, Isaac was barely into adulthood: lean and unbelievably tiny. If it weren’t for the college ID strung around his neck, Wilfred would have no trouble believing the boy to be fifteen at most. 

Itching to see just what he was working with, he lays the boy on his back and removes his clothing from him, one by one. His shirt, sneakers, socks, pair of jeans: the tutor peels them all off within a matter of minutes, discarding them onto the floor, with the boy’s underwear placed at the very top of the pile. Wilfred finds with no surprise that, much like the rest of his lean body, Isaac’s is near hairless underneath those tight boxer briefs—with just the lightest dusting of hair covering the base of his slim, pretty cock. 

“What a dream…” Wilfred’s whispers, pressing tongue onto naked flesh. He brushes his lips against the shell of his ear, the nape of his neck. Lavishes attention on the boy’s chest, his waist, and down—slowly, further down still—all the way until he’s buried his face inside Isaac’s warm, inviting thighs. Wilfred drinks in the way Isaac react to his touch even in his sleep, skin flushing and prickling underneath his lips as the tutor slowly peppers kisses throughout his vulnerable body. 

“So pretty… and so, so  _ small _ . If I didn’t know any better, Isaac, I’d say you haven’t even started puberty yet.”

He nudges the sleeping boy’s thighs apart, suckling at the pale, creamy skin…

… and smiles when he hears the boy gasp from underneath him, followed by a soft, sleepy moan. 

“Mmm…  _ fuck _ . You're going to be so much fun to break into, I can already tell,” Wilfred breathes, licking his lips.

From the way he’s reacted to the slightest compliment, all flustered and pink, to the way he eagerly scarfs down what’s placed in front of him in a stranger’s house, the tutor can already venture a guess as to the kind of upbringing Isaac’s grown up with. Sheltered by wealth and strictly success-oriented, no doubt, with little room for any warmth. The prestigious school, the double-major, the tell-tale dreams of becoming a doctor—it all tells him just as much, as well: the all-too-familiar story of a child, overcompensating to impress the whims of his despotic parents. It’s no wonder the poor thing is all too eager to trust, running headfirst towards the first hints of the love and affection he’s never had growing up. 

Right into the waiting maw of a predator like him.

He has no one to thank more than the kid’s own parents, really. With Isaac at hand, naive and none-the-wiser, he could do so,  _ so much _ to the boy. Corrupt him; groom him. Brainwash him into happily serving Wilfred on his hands and knees, instead of whatever shallow career his parents had meant for the boy to pursue. The tutor remembers fondly what that was like: the thrill of the time he had finally brought Alex home permanently, after going through their final session together. He feels himself getting hard in his slacks, thinking about getting to do it all over again.

Two lovely pets,  _ all to himself. _ If he plays his cards right, Alex will finally have a cute little playmate to join him in no time.

With that in mind, Wilfred climbs onto the couch. He situates himself next to the boy and began whispering in his ear the same soft, calming tones that had lured Isaac in before. As always, the tutor takes great care to use the ticking of the clock to aid him, flowing the tempo of his words to the heavy swing of brass.

To and fro. 

_ To and fro. _

“Doesn’t this feel nice, Isaac? A nice, relaxing little study break, just for you. You deserve it, after all, after working so hard.”

Without opening his eyes, the boy lolls his head forward, nodding. 

“You never get a break from studying at home though, do you? You work so hard at school—but do you ever get a chance to stop? Sit back, relax, and just _rest_ for a little while?”

“Mm, no,” Isaac mumbles. “Not really…”

“And why is that?”

“Mother— Father... they’d just… have tutors ready for me, waiting at home after school…”

“I see... And they don’t think at all about how exhausted their son would already be, coming home after a long day of learning, do they?” The tutor smiles, wolfish and predatory. “Poor dear. I just don’t know how you manage it, Isaac.”

Isaac frowns—almost a pout. “I have to, to become a doctor… It’s a lot, but… can’t let them down…”

Just as he suspected. And what a waste  _ that _ would be—to throw away all that youthful innocence on something so painfully uninspired. He’ll definitely have to change that, won’t he?

“I see. Well, Isaac, you’re always welcome to take a break here _ ,”  _ The tutor pauses, letting the suggestion settle before continuing. “A little study break, once a week: where you get to relax and  _ rest _ . Getting enough  _ rest _ is important, after all—no matter what anyone else may insist.” 

“From now on, let’s take a little study break like this, shall we? It’ll be a normal part of our tutoring sessions: something you can do to  _ rest  _ after a long week’s worth of studying and classes.”

“Study break… rest…” the boy softly repeated.

“Yes, Isaac. A nice, sleepy little  _ study break _ ,” Wilfred smiles, gently stroking the boy’s cheek with his fingers. “And you won’t even think about it, will you Isaac? No, thinking’s too hard… The whole point of breaks are to  _ rest _ your pretty little head, after all. Best to just  _ rest _ and let go in these little study breaks— _ relax and let go to the sound of my voice.” _

A shiver travels through Isaac’s body as he absorbs the new suggestion.

“Do you understand?”

The boy nods. “Let go… Thinking... too hard…… sleepy…” 

“That’s right…  _ thinking is just too difficult, _ when you’re so very sleepy like this. _ ” _ Wilfred drawls, “During these breaks, it’s so much easier to just sit back and listen, isn’t it? Just leave all the difficult thinking to your tutor from here on out.”

Isaac’s body sags even further at that, as if to wholly surrender himself to the perverted tutor. 

_ “That’s it… just listen and let me help you, Isaac. Empty your mind of anything other than my voice. Just listen, obey, and let your tutor make you feel so much better...”  _

With that, Wilfred takes out the bottle of lube that had been warming in his pocket for the past hour. He squirts a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it to the side, making sure to apply more than what’s necessary. There’s just something about Isaac that screams to be taken apart slowly, savored and played with every step of the way—small and delicate as he is. 

He just can’t help but indulge the sweet boy a little.

“In a moment, I’m going to spread you open _right_ _here_,” he murmurs, spreading Isaac open and lining slick fingers at the tight, pink entrance. “Make you feel _so good _during your study break, _just like you wanted.”_

Wilfred traces the rim with the flat of his digits sensually, teasingly, until the hole is winking with anticipation. 

“Tell me: have you ever done this to yourself before?”

He hears Isaac’s breath hitch from underneath him. “No…” 

“No?” The tutor chuckles. He leans forward, whispering over the boy’s ear. “Oh, you’ll  _ love _ it, Isaac. I’m going to make sure of it, one way or another…” 

The tutor slides his fingers inside. He works them in nice and slow at first—pressing against the tight ring of muscle and feeling out Isaac’s virgin-tight passage, as he gently spreads the boy open on his fingers. 

“God, you’re so  _ tight… _ It’s as if your body is just sucking me in here,” Wilfred whispers. He eases his fingers in and out of the boy—quickly, efficiently, picking up his pace once the boy adjusts to him and filling the room with the slick, sloppy sounds of it. “... Like your body is just  _ hungry _ for it.”

Isaac is panting, ragged and breathy. Already Wilfred sees him starting to respond favorably—his little waist bucking as if it had a mind of its own; his pretty cock beginning to fill untouched. Eyes closed and lips parted open on a moan, the sleeping boy on his fingers looked no different than the image of someone lost in pure and utter bliss.

He can’t wait to see what the boy looks like, spread open on his cock.

“Look at you: so desperate to be filled you’re practically drooling for it,” the tutor smirks, reaching for his own zipper.  _ “What a hungry, hungry boy you must be, Isaac.” _

He kicks off his own slacks towards the pile of Isaac’s discarded clothes and grabs the bottle of lube off from the side. Wilfred dribbles a fair amount on his hand, palming at his erection as he prepares himself to fully ravish the boy in his sleep.

“The cookies weren’t nearly enough for you, were they? No, no—it looks to me like your body wants something even  _ more _ to fill you up.

“Something… more….” the boy mumbles.

_ “Yes, something more. Something bigger, and thicker, and with even more protein to fill you up with.  _ Yeah, you want for nothing more than to be filled up to the brim with  _ all of that, right here.”  _

Isaac whines, drool pooling down his chin in thin little streams. With all of the capacity for thought siphoned out of his head, the boy is left utterly helpless to the whims of the tutor—unable to refuse the suggestions taking hold of his otherwise empty little mind. He has no other choice but to  _ listen _ and  _ obey: _ wanting for nothing else than what Wilfred dictates he does at the moment.

“Open your eyes, Isaac. Beg for me properly. Spread those legs wide open and show me _just how much you want me to stuff you full.”_

The boy follows immediately, lifting his legs up high and holding each in place by the back of his thighs as dazed, brown eyes fluttered open. Isaac’s body is nearly folded in half this way, giving the tutor quite the view as the student obediently awaits further commands.

Placing the boy’s raised legs atop his shoulders, Wilfred lines himself up with Isaac’s hole. 

“What a good boy,” the tutor coos, gripping Isaac’s hips as he slides himself inside the tight, wet heat. It doesn’t escape Wilfred’s attention just how positively the boy responds to even the slightest praise: the way he flushes scarlet all over, moaning—or the way his slim, pretty cock stood tall at his words, even despite the pain the boy was surely in. 

“ _ Such a lovely, pretty boy for me, taking all of me so, so well.” _

_ “You love this, don’t you sweetling?” _

_ “This is what you were hungry for all along: nothing feels better to you than something big and thick inside of you like this, filling your slutty, hungry hole.” _

Isaac mewls—tiny, breathless little sounds as the tutor fucks the suggestions into him. The boy is stretched taut around his cock, and with each praise he gives him Wilfred could physically feel him more and more: clenched around him, tight and vise-like, as if his body was trying to draw him deeper in. 

As he pounds into him hard and relentless, Wilfred comes across the little bundle of nerves inside of Isaac that pries a loud, desperate cry from the boy. He gives a quick snap of his hips, hitting the same spot again and again—making his student all but melt underneath him. 

_“There you go, sweetling._ _Doesn’t this feel so, so good? You want this to happen during each and every one of our sessions, every time we meet. You’ll grow to crave it, until it’s all you can think about during your classes. Until all you’ll want to do is rest, relax, and surrender your mind to me as I stuff your hungry body with what it _**_really_**_ needs…” _

He takes Isaac’s leaking cock in his hand, earning a choked moan from him as he wraps his fingers around it and strokes the boy off to the pace of his thrusts. 

_ “Just let it all happen, Isaac.  _ ** _Accept it._ ** _ Just let your tutor make you feel so much better…”  _

All at once, Isaac groans. The boy is trembling around him as he cums harder than he’s ever had in his life, painting his chest and tummy white. The sensation of Isaac clenching down around him only brings the tutor to quickly follow suit, spilling his seed inside the boy as he fucks his orgasm deep into him. 

Wilfred collapses on top of the boy once he’s finished, laying there together for a little as they both catch their breath. When he finally regains his strength, the tutor pushes himself up and off the couch, putting his slacks back on and admiring how wrecked the boy looks, his puffy hole twitching, leaking cum onto the leather couch. 

Eventually he’ll teach the boy to love getting on his knees and cleaning up after his fun little messes. For now, however, the tutor is content to just have Alex lick the upholstery clean for him after the session today is over.

“ _ Good boy, Isaac. _ You’ve been  _ such _ a good student for me today,” Wilfred says to him, not at all missing how Isaac practically glows under the praise. He helps Isaac get dressed, slipping his underwear, pants, and shirt back on—over the boy’s filthy, cum-splattered body. 

He pats him on the cheek, smiling.

“Close your eyes, Isaac. In a moment, I’m going to count down and have you wake up from your study break. When you do, nothing that we’ve done so far will seem strange to you, because this is everything you want from a session isn’t it?”

Slowly, Isaac nods and shuts his eyes.

“That’s right. You’re  _ so stressed _ and  _ hungry _ from your day-to-day classes that you have no more energy to even think when you get to these sessions,” he reiterates, driving the point home to the boy. “You come here to take a break from all of that: a nice, little study break, where you can let everything go and have your tutor make you feel  _ so much better.” _

He sits Isaac upright on the couch, arranging his body to be exactly the way he was before the boy had fallen asleep on his lap.

“Now, Isaac: wake up for me, in three…”

“... Two…”

_ “One.” _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my husband as always: for alpha- and beta-reading this work, as well as for generally dealing with my bullshit idiosyncrasies ❤️

“Mm… Wilfred…?” Isaac mumbles, yawning. He gently rubs his eyes as he starts to come to. “...Had I fallen asleep?” 

In front of him, he could see Wilfred already cleaning up after their session. The tray of cookies had long been taken away, and the older man was placing the whiteboard and markers underneath the table.

"Hm? Ah, you’re awake," Wilfred smiles. "Of course you had. We had agreed to take a little study break, after you had felt too tired to go on with the lesson. Remember?" 

“A study break...?” Isaac furrowed his brows. But hadn’t Wilfred only been going over orbital basics just now? Isaac must have started to doze off sometime during the lesson—he couldn’t recall anything happening after the lesson on orbitals, let alone ever asking for something like a break. 

_Just when did that happen?_

"Why, you don’t remember asking me for one?" Wilfred asked, voice laced with concern. "We had both agreed on giving you a break after just how _ exhausted _ you had seemed earlier. There’s no point in forcing a lesson if you’re too tired to learn anything, right?"

Isaac feels strange goosebumps prickle his skin as he tries to remember. A ‘study break’ _ does _ sound familiar, now that he thinks about it. And perhaps he can remember Wilfred’s express approval of something like that, too. Nothing about the break itself seemed anything out-of-the-ordinary, either—if anything, it was admittedly _nice_ to get to wake up feeling this refreshed. But why, then, can’t he remember when they had this conversation? Had Isaac been that tired that he had sleep-talked all of it? 

"You need to take care of yourself, Isaac. I know it must be easier said than done, but how are you going to learn anything if you’re constantly pushing yourself too hard?" Wilfred said, frowning. "A break will give you the chance to relax, and maybe fill your stomach. Especially after what you had told me of your classes: something about not having the time to eat right before coming here, right? I can’t see how that would be healthy for anyone in the long term."

Isaac nodded. He remembers having said that last part, if nothing else. Still—even if he can’t recall it all exactly, he can’t deny that he’s grateful for Wilfred’s kindness. It’s only been the first day, and already the older tutor had been nothing but thoughtful thus far. It was awfully nice of Wilfred to take so much into consideration for his student’s well being—certainly much more than what he can say of any tutor he’s had in the past. Isaac can’t help but feel validated for his choice to go to a _ real person _ like Wilfred this time, over the multitude of faceless corporations his parents loved to have him shipped to back home.

“Ah, yeah… I—wow. I just… never thought something like that would be important to a tutor, that’s all. I mean, wouldn’t a break just be taking time away from us studying?”

"Oh, that's nothing you need to worry about, Isaac. I’m not charging you for the time you spend here on break. I want my students to do well after all, and that all starts with _feeling well_ first. Besides," The older tutor waves his hand towards the back of the living room, where the grandfather clock stood. "Half an hour for every break. Remember? That way it’s not too long, but it gives you enough to feel refreshed and ready to start on your assignments after the end of every session."

Isaac couldn’t believe it. For the reasonable price Wilfred was offering, not only was he getting a top notch tutor that clearly cares about his students, but _on top of that_ a rare opportunity for Isaac himself to take a step back. Relax. He can't seem to think of a time he's ever felt this recharged and ready to go, much less right after an hour-long tutoring session. And all of this was offered with a smile and free delicious food, to boot. 

It almost sounded too good to be true.

“Is this really alright, Wilfred? You're providing with_ so much_ _more_ than I'm paying you for,” Isaac chuckled, reaching into his wallet to pay for today's session. “It feels like highway robbery.”

"If I was really concerned with money, I know of companies out there I could slave under. I became a local tutor because there's nothing I love more than helping young people blossom and reach their full, unrealized potential." Wilfred shrugged, smiling. "I know not everyone can afford an expensive tutor, so I do my best to make sure cost isn’t a barrier for some people."

He had initially said it as a lighthearted joke, but the response Isaac had gotten from Wilfred had taken him by surprise. It was a noble goal to strive for, and Isaac couldn’t help but respect the older tutor that much more for it.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but before he came to work under me Alex used to be just like you, you know. College undergraduate, pre-med track—the whole nine yards. It was only after having me as his tutor a year ago that I helped him realize an undiscovered passion for teaching. He’s been with us here ever since."

“Really?” Isaac asked, wide-eyed. So it was only a year ago that the younger tutor had been on the same boat as he is—only to have abandoned it in favor of teaching alongside Wilfred. He’d love for a chance to talk to Alex all about what that had been like: what about the older tutor had inspired him to give up his the track, and why he ultimately chose a profession like teaching over helping the medical community.

And who knows? Perhaps he may even get his questions answered no later than next week, during his next study break.

"Yes, really." Wilfred looks as if he was about to say more, but stops himself as he glances at the time on the clock. "Unfortunately, it seems as though we’re all out of time for today, Isaac; I wouldn’t want to keep you here for too long after all, and it is getting dark soon. We can definitely talk more about it during our next session though, if you’d like."

“Yes, of course.”

Isaac stands to gather his things. As he gets on his feet, however, a mixture of confusion and discomfort hits him as he feels a warm, sticky wetness from in between his legs.

_What is this? _

... Something's not right. Even if he doesn't know what, he can sense that something strange has taken place—something he’s not sure he’ll even understand, even if he does know. Puzzled, Isaac looks around for a possible explanation. 

"Are you looking for something?" Wilfred asks, perceiving his sudden confusion. "Isaac, is something wrong?"

“I, uh—”

_ Nothing that we’ve done so far will seem strange to you, because this is everything you want from a session isn’t it? _

A voice. Vaguely familiar, it halts his train of thought and echoes insistently in his mind the same line, over and over. 

_Nothing that we’ve done so far will seem strange to you, because this is everything you want from a session isn’t it?_

_Nothing that we’ve done so far will seem strange to you, because this is everything you want from a session isn’t it?_

_Nothing that we’ve done so far will seem strange to you, _

"...because this is everything you want from a session isn’t it?"

The strange feeling leaves him all at once, just as inexplicably as it came. Whatever had caused his uneasiness before had all but vanished without a trace—as if it had never been there to begin with.

"Isaac," Wilfred repeats, "is something wrong?"

“No...” Isaac replies softly, almost to himself. He can't even remember what had him so riled up in the first place. “I don't think so.”

He shakes his head.

“Sorry about that, Wilfred. Same time next Thursday, right?”

The older tutor nods. "But as Alex may have told you earlier, if something comes up and you need to cancel, or if you need a session earlier than that, just let us know over the phone. We’re very flexible with our schedule, and we’ll be happy to accommodate you."

Isaac thanks him and keeps the option in mind for the future. He walks with Wilfred out of the living room, down the hall, and through the foyer towards the door. 

"You have another exam tomorrow, don’t you? Relax and get plenty of rest—I'm sure the rest will follow." Wilfred smiles. "Take care, Isaac, and I’ll see you next week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For questions, requests, or when you would generally like to hound me to finish a work faster: https://mothballs-and-benzene.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

After sending Isaac home for the day, Wilfred closes and locks the front door behind him.

He strolls through the foyer, the living room, and past the empty kitchen—traversing nearly the entirety of the first floor alone, all the way towards the staircase in the back. Though he knows of the lovely surprise he’s kept waiting for him, Wilfred is in no real hurry to actually get to it. He’s slow to climb the winding flight of steps leading to his bedroom. 

All the while, he can't help but think of Isaac. As Wilfred makes his way up, his mind continues to replay over and over again the sinful, mesmerizing acts shared between him and his new “student”. He thinks back to those big brown eyes: soft pools of melted honey, staring up at him with such innocence through the boy’s long lashes. Warm and oh-so-trusting till the very end, when they had glazed over as Isaac beautifully submits to him.

And who could forget such _ creamy _ thighs—wrapped around his shoulders like a vice, pulling him in closer as he plowed through the boy’s virgin-tight body?

Goosebumps prickle at his skin as Wilfred recalls the absolute thrill of it. The boy’s reaction at the end is all but icing on the cake. What matters to him more is successfully instilling in his student the suggestion to _ let go _ and _ obey_—to crave the feeling of sitting back, surrendering both mind and body to his tutor during these little “breaks”. Once he has Isaac addicted to this, it will be mere moments before the boy is his; and by that point, it won’t matter how he reacts in the end. Wilfred could reveal everything to Isaac then, and the poor boy will still be all but helpless on his knees for him. 

_ Two lovely pets, both under his complete and utter control. _

Wilfred couldn’t wait for the day to come. He’s only certain his little kitten feels the same way.

Eventually, Wilfred reaches the end of the narrow corridor leading to his bedroom. Turning his attention to the silver knob in his hand, he gently pushes open the door.

“Here, little kitty,” he calls, smiling. “Master’s back.”

Inside, his “surprise” lays splayed out on top of his bed. Naked, of course—save for the weighted clamps biting down on his pink, puffy nipples, and the collar snug around his neck. His kitten’s thighs are spread wide open for him on the mattress, giving Wilfred a lovely view of the thick vibrator he slides in and out of his hole. His prick stands tall and pretty between parted legs, drooling all over him as it strains against his cockring. 

His head, lolled to the side in mindless bliss, perks up at the sound of his master’s voice. 

Wilfred walks over to the bed beside him. The clothes he had him wear to greet Isaac had since been discarded on the floor, tucked neatly in a little corner away from the bed. His kitten must have been so uncomfortable having to pretend to be human, even for such a short amount of time, that he must have shed them here immediately after. Even still, he’s carried everything out so nicely that Wilfred has little to complain about. The performance he had given them all was stellar, given the truth of the matter. And he’s even gone above and beyond his orders here—putting on his collar and clamps all on his own, knowing just what to do to please his master. 

Such obedience begs to be properly rewarded. 

Gathering his kitten’s face in his hands, he leans in for a taste. The kiss between them is sloppy and rough, just the way he likes it: lips and tongues grinding against one another in a fervent, heated passion as Wilfred plunders his mouth. He relishes the little sounds he receives from his pet, who’s long abandoned playing with his toy in favor of wrapping his arms around him—pawing desperately at his face, his hair, his chest, his back. When he pulls away from the boy, Wilfred admires the adorable way his lips tremble, glistening with saliva in the pale light of the room. 

He doesn’t need to look hard to notice the flush that had crept onto his skin, or the way his bound cock twitches with wanton need in between his legs.

“My… eager today aren’t we?” Wilfred smiles, nipping at his lips. “Were you that lonely, kitten? Waiting here for me, all on your own?”

Alex nods, mewling. His pet nuzzles insistently at him, rubbing his face against his fingers. 

Wilfred chuckles. He narrows his eyes as he slides his fingers past his kitten’s cheeks and drags them onto his hungry lips.

“Well. Why don’t you show me how much you’ve missed your master, then?”

His kitten eagerly takes them in his mouth, licking and sucking on the digits like there’s nothing else he’s ever meant to do in life. He closes his eyes, moaning around them as he starts to couple the act with other sensations—tugging at the weights dangling from his chest, stuffing himself silly with the toy again. 

“Good boy…” Wilfred purrs, sighing as he pets the boy’s head. “You’ve become such a good kitty for me now, haven’t you?”

The sight of such a submissive display from his pet only excites Wilfred. There is such a marked difference from the way the boy had been their very first meeting together, and it only highlights just how far his pet had come since then. It’s a blessing that Wilfred had come and “fixed” him just when he had. His mother, the weak-willed woman, had only spoiled the brat rotten all these years. Were it not for him, there’s no telling what type of trouble the little wretch would be getting into otherwise—what with that _ mouthy _ attitude, and his blatant disrespect for his elders. 

Now, though? Now, his stepson is nothing if not an absolute _ dream_.

A mindless, cum-thirsty little kitten, who lives only to please and serve.

He takes his fingers away from his pet, eliciting a desperate whine from the boy. Before he could go on to protest anymore, however, Wilfred flips him over face down—lifting his hips up and pinning his wrists down onto the mattress. He traces the curve of his lovely ass, rubbing soft, sensual circles with the flat of his digits before surprising his pet with a loud, harsh _ smack _.

“Now, now... we’ve gone over this before, pet,” Wilfred whispers, voice thick and husky in the boy’s ear. “Well-behaved little kitties don’t complain like that now, do they?”

He rubs the sore bottom before giving it another hard spank.

“What should you do instead, when you want to ask Master for something nice?”

Alex keens at the assault on his buttocks. If the way he’d moaned just now hadn’t already signaled how much he had enjoyed his punishment, the way his cock twitches and leaks precum all over the sheets certainly does. He’s long been made receptive to Wilfred’s every touch—mind heavily altered and played with, to crave every bit of pain and pleasure his master wishes to hand him.

Everything Wilfred does to his body now feels nothing short of _ good._

“Forgive me, I… please…” he breathes, in between heavy panting. “I… I want… in me… please…”

“What’s that?” Wilfred tugs hard on a weighted clamp, causing his kitten to cry out from under him. “I can’t hear you at all. Come now, Alex, speak up for me. Tell Master what you need, _ properly.” _

_ “Please, _ Master!” Alex cries, shamelessly begging him. “I need your cock inside me, please…!”

Wilfred chuckles, letting go of the weight. He removes the clamps off his pet’s chest altogether, taking a swollen nipple and rolling it gently in between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs the vibrator and slides it out of the boy, turning it off. 

“I do love it when my kitten purrs so prettily.”

Wilfred unfastens his slacks, just enough to pull his hard cock out from within while still leaving the clothing on him. He doesn’t bother grabbing the lube from his nightstand either, seeing as how his pet had done well to prepare himself already—judging by how slick and gaping his hole is for him. He strokes himself off before lining up at the boy’s entrance.

“You did good out there today… I couldn’t be more proud of you. Good kitties like you deserve to be rewarded once in a while, don’t they?”

His pet mewls, nodding. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Wilfred grins, gripping his pet tightly. _ “Here’s your reward, little kitty.” _

With a quick thrust of his hips, he shoves himself in. Both Wilfred and Alex moan in unison as his cock twitches deep inside the boy, buried up to the hilt. Wilfred holds himself there, steady and fully seated inside his kitten’s fluttering hole. He makes no effort to move, casually taking the time to enjoy the warm, wet heat of his body while he watches his pet strain to keep from rutting back. 

“Don’t move, darling. Stay. You know who’s in control, don’t you?”

Alex nods, shivering.

“Who do you belong to, Alex?”

“You, Master,” the boy manages. “I’m yours, a… all yours…” 

“Do you want to cum?”

“Only if... Master wishes for it…” 

Wilfred smiles, pleased at his kitten’s complete obedience. He knows there’s simply no turning back from here. There’s no undoing the months of sex and abuse he had heaped onto his stepson’s body; certainly no undoing the fact that he had long taken his virginity. His kitten can’t even get it up without a cock in either hole now. Even if he could erase the suggestions rooted firmly in his mind, there’s no way his pet would ever go on to enjoy a normal life after all of this.

He starts thrusting in earnest, then. In and out at a brutal pace, fucking his kitten hard into the mattress and making the boy gasp and writhe around him. He slides back, almost pulling out completely before slamming back inside, over and over again. 

_ “That’s right. _ You’re _ mine_, Alex. My pet, for me to use as I wish,” Wilfred whispers in his ear. “Your mind, your body, your orgasms, your pleasure… _ only I decide what to do with it all. _ And for you, there is no greater pleasure in life than that now, is there?”

His kitten shakes his head. He’s mewling happily as he gets to rut back and forth, driving his cock deeper into his unresisting body. 

“To let go and take everything I give you, without a single thought in that empty little brain. It’s the highest honor a pet like you could ever have. And now you’ll help me bestow it on our new student too, won’t you? 

“What do you say, Alex? A new little pup for you and I to play with. How does that sound?”

“Yes, yes yes...” his pet moans, rolling his eyes back. “Please, Master, _ please…” _

Wilfred holds his kitten tight as he feels himself nearing orgasm. He reaches down front, smearing the boy’s own fluids all over his bound prick before tugging at the cockring.

“I’m going to fill you up, kitten,” he grunts. _ “Nice and full. _I want you to feel me deep inside of you, as you come on my cock. That will be your reward for such a brilliant performance.”

His pet merely sobs in gratitude, too far gone for words at this point. 

Wilfred slides the ring off of him as he reaches his own climax. Immediately his pet cries out, cock pulsing as he shoots ropes and ropes of white onto his hand. The feeling of his kitten clenching down on him is so good, Wilfred is content to stay that way on top of him for a while—allowing that beautiful hole to milk him dry. 

They collapse on the bed, not long after. Wilfred holds his stepson close as they both come down, panting heavily and catching their breaths together. Up close, he watches as his kitten closes his eyes, fast asleep in his master’s arms. He must have been so exhausted from the day’s activities, to have succumbed to sleep so quickly like that.

Wilfred chuckles. He pats his head gently, smiling as he murmurs sweet nothings into the sleeping boy’s ears. Alex is permanently, irreversibly ruined, now—incapable of being anything other than the dumb little pet Wilfred had meant for him to be. 

And pretty soon, Isaac will be too.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

“Welcome back, Isaac. Please, come on in!”

To no one’s surprise, Isaac is already back for another session at Wilfred’s—two days before when he was initially scheduled to come in. He had called them earlier that day to schedule one last minute, making good on their previous offer of extra sessions if he needed it. 

And the boy needed it, badly. 

Isaac looked horrible this time around: disheveled, with his hair tousled up and dark circles under his eyes. “Tired” doesn’t begin to cover it; it was more or less as if the boy had just rolled out of bed from several fitful nights of sleep. Wilfred could feel the palpable fatigue just by looking at him, yawning and spacing out as they both slowly made their way into the living room. He knew his student was constantly stretched thin by all the assignments and responsibilities that came with his academic track, so he could only imagine how Isaac was dealing with them now—with the added bonus of his suggestions weighing on his mind.

It’s no wonder at all why the boy didn’t notice the small breathy moans Alex made that morning, when he had his kitten dutifully ride his cock as he took his call.

“So I heard from Alex that you had to schedule an extra session with us all of a sudden, but I don’t think you mentioned why yet over the phone. Did the exam last Friday go well for you?”

“Oh… uhm, yeah, they were great… I think I did a little better this time, thanks to our refresher on orbital basics last week,” Isaac frowns, visibly stumbling over his thoughts. It was clear even to Wilfred that the exam results were the last thing on his mind.

“Oh? What’s brought you here to us so soon then?” the tutor asks.

“I’ve been having a hard time relaxing lately… Things have gotten hectic around the lab, and midterm season is approaching soon too. I know I’ve done a lot to prepare already, but maybe organic chemistry has been keeping me up at night more than I thought it would....” A pink flush colors the boy’s cheeks as he trails off.

“What’s wrong? You don’t need to be shy with me, Isaac.”

“Um… I was thinking... I guess I’d sleep a little better if we do some more review...? I just feel like... I’ll be able to relax once I feel more confident with the material,” Isaac says hesitantly. It wasn’t as if he had said anything out of the ordinary, but it was clear on the boy’s face that there was something not quite right with that statement. The boy looked puzzled, unsure—like he was trying to convince himself that _ this _ was the reason he came here today more than anything. 

“I see. No, that’s perfectly understandable,” Wilfred replied, nodding. “Pre-exam jitters can be quite a problem for many people. You’re certainly not the only student of mine to have had something like this happen.”

Isaac smiles, seemingly relieved that Wilfred had understood him. Of course the tutor knew the _ real _ reason why his student felt compelled to come back to him so soon. Even if Isaac himself did not. Still, it was fun watching the boy struggle for a bit, trying to put together a reason for coming here that didn’t come out sounding absolutely ridiculous.

“In those cases, it helps for some people to review the material until they know it like the back of their hand. Alex and I can help you with that all day today, since no one else is booked for the rest of the afternoon. We can go at your own pace, for as long as you want. And since we have an extra session this week, we may even cover a lot more material than I was planning to.”

Wilfred sits himself on one end of the couch before gesturing to Isaac to do the same.

“For now though, why don’t you have a seat right here so we can get started?”

* * *

“So, Isaac,” Wilfred starts off, “Last time, we were able to briefly cover arrow-pushing after our review of orbitals, right before taking our study break. We were only able to briefly touch upon it, and I want us to go over it again before we move onto resonance structures.” The tutor uncaps a dry erase marker he pulled from underneath the table and draws the structure for nitrate on the whiteboard. “Do you remember what we covered last week?”

Isaac nods slowly. “A little bit… I don’t remember much, but I think I remember from my lectures. It’s the flow of electrons, right? Electrons don’t stay fixed in one area and are constantly moving throughout the molecule.”

“Good! You must also remember what arrow pushing is then?”

“It’s… the tool we use to help visualize the movement of these electrons.”

“That’s correct,” the tutor smiles, all saccharine and sweet. “Because our eyes can’t see the electrons moving throughout the molecule in real time, we use tools to picture in our head how these electrons may be moving. This is how we get a better sense of which parts of the molecule have a partial negative charge and which parts have a partial positive, which will help our understanding of how molecules bond with one another. Arrow pushing is an important early tool to grasp in order to master the subject of organic chemistry.”

Wilfred takes care to enunciate each and every one of his words softly, carefully—gradually slowing down his pace until his speech syncs perfectly to the hypnotic ticking of the living room clock. He uses this slower, gentler tone in his voice as he draws curved arrows pointing from lone pair to bond and bond to lone pair. 

_ Lone pair to bond and bond to lone pair. _

Meanwhile Isaac is splayed helpless on the couch, taken by the sights and sounds of Wilfred’s “lecture”. His brown eyes glaze over as they watch his tutor’s marker glide across the board, following the fluid movement swinging over from one point to another.

_ Lone pair to bond and bond to lone pair. _

Back and forth. It was just like the to and fro of the heavy brass behind the glass case—as if the marker was mimicking the natural swing of the pendulum perfectly. His arms and legs lay limp by his sides, while a thin sliver of drool hung from his parted lips. 

“Yes, that’s right… Arrow pushing is an important tool for us here, see? That’s why it’s important that you focus your all on these arrows, Isaac…”

Wilfred inches closer and closer while continuing to draw the curved arrows on the board. To and fro. _ To and fro. _He stops leaning in only when his lips are a hair’s breadth from the boy’s ear. 

“Yes… just like that. _ Just these arrows and the sound of my voice. _ There's no need to think of anything else right now—nothing else matters but _ these arrows and the sound of my voice _…”

A blank lifelessness crept over his student’s expression—as if everything else was in the process of being purged from his head one by one until only the arrows and his tutor’s voice remained. The boy lays on the couch, held captive by the marker’s movements until his mind was completely emptied.

A clean slate once again, now ready for the tutor to work with. 

“You look so tired, Isaac… _ so very sleepy, _ ” Wilfred whispers. “I bet you’ve been wanting to _ sleep _ more than anything in the world, haven’t you?”

The boy gives a light nod of his head. 

“And you _ must _ be _ hungry _ too, I’m sure… You barely have time to sleep and eat, what with all of your classes and labs these days. You weren’t able to catch lunch on time today either, isn’t that right?”

Isaac frowns. “Yeah…”

“Sounds like what you need is a little _ study break _ then. A little break from studying, where you can _ rest _ and _ relax _ . I’ll have you fall into a _ nice, deep sleep _ and you’ll come out of it feeling refreshed and _ full _ by the end of it.” Wilfred smiles, not at all bothering to hide the dark, predatory glint in his expression at this point. 

“That’s right… And while you sleep, I’ll make sure to give you something _ big _ and _ thick _ to fill you up while you rest, too. _ Stuff your hungry body full, just like before. _ Doesn’t that sound nice? Wouldn’t you like to have _ that _ happen again in our sessions?”

“Please,” he whines, nodding once more. “Please, please…”

“Then let’s have another one together, Isaac,” the tutor whispers. “_ Right now. _” 

Wilfred draws up a different structure on the board, right below the one of the nitrate. “Just like last time, I’m going to count aloud all the arrows here. And with each one, each number I read aloud, you’ll be made to feel all _ warm _ and _ relaxed _ . So relaxed you can’t help but close those heavy eyelids… So warm you can’t resist _ falling deeply asleep.” _

Without further ado, the tutor starts to count aloud to the ticking of the clock. With each one, he slowly traces over the curved marks with the capped end of his marker––going from bond to bond, _ to and fro. _

Wilfred doesn’t even need to reach halfway this time, however, before he finds Isaac collapsed onto his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think this fic counts as an "educational work"? Let me know down below in the comments, or at my tumblr: https://mothballs-and-benzene.tumblr.com/


End file.
